Epilogue
Tessa
Two Years Later
It should be illegal for time to move as quickly as it does.
Somehow, I blinked, and suddenly, my little boy is starting second grade.
I have photos and videos on my phone that capture endless moments from the last two years, and still, I don’t believe this much time has passed.
Sometimes, I worry there are moments I’ve missed, glimpses in time I’ve failed to capture despite knowing they’ll forever be imprinted in my memories.
The days seem to pass by even faster now that I’m no longer working at Lori’s.
About a year ago, I started working as a substitute teacher.
I don’t know if I want to continue school to get my teaching credentials, but for now, I’m enjoying being in the classroom when needed.
The pay increase has been nice, and being a substitute gives me the flexibility to work as little or as much as life allows.
Plus, it means I can work around Logan’s hectic schedule and try to match up our days as best as possible.
Granted, there are days when he’s off duty while I’m working.
But we also have days like today when the stars align, we’re both off, and we get to be together while we drop Jake off for his first day of school.
Second grade.
Our little boy is seven years old and starting second grade.
“If you want time to play before the bell rings, we need to leave soon,” I call as I zip Jake’s lunch bag closed.
I swear, if we weren’t actually trying to be somewhere, the three of us would be completely dressed and ready to leave.
But because we’re on a time crunch, everything seems to be moving at a snail’s pace.
Strong arms wrap around my waist from behind and settle on my stomach. “I would love time to play,” Logan teases, trailing his lips along the column of my neck.
A shiver races down my spine as heat coils low in my stomach. He’s been damn near insatiable since we discussed trying for a baby. Physical touch has always been one of his love languages, and I swear it has only been amplified by his desire to grow our family.
My laugh is breathless as I turn in his hold and wrap my arms around his neck. “You won’t get to play unless we get Jake to school on time.”
He squeezes my hips before his brows furrow in determination. Stepping away, he heads back down the hallway as he hollers for Jake to hurry up.
Logan has taken parenting in stride, and it has been incredible to see their relationship blossom. We’ve had a few bumps here and there, moments where he doubts being enough for us, but there’s no doubt in my mind that we’re meant to be a family.
The sound of small, thundering footsteps fills the space as Jake comes running into the kitchen with his backpack slung over one shoulder.
“I found them,” he exclaims, grabbing his lunch bag off the counter before dropping his backpack to the floor, unzipping it, and shoving his packed lunch inside.
“And where were they this time?” I ask.
“Take a guess,” Logan says, striding into the kitchen.
“Hmmm. Let me think.” I fold my arms over my chest, eyeing our rambunctious little boy. “Were they shoved under your bed?”
Jake shakes his head with a laugh. “Nope. Why would they be under my bed? They were in my toy bucket!”
As if that’s any better.
“And how exactly did your shoes get in your toy bucket?” We bought him a shoe organizer that hangs in his closet in hopes he would finally stop losing his shoes, but it seems that the daily case of Where are Jake’s shoes? is here to stay.
He simply shrugs in response and slings his backpack over his shoulders. “Can we go now?” he asks, then shifts his gaze to Logan. “You're coming, right, Dad?”
The grin that brightens Logan's face could rival the sun. “Wouldn't miss it, buddy.”